Emergence Series: The End of a Guide
by Lady Sam Mallory
Summary: First story in the Series. Takes Place post TSbyBS. Blair has had it and walks away to start a new life. Blair's POV. Original Publish Date: 04/07/03


**Disclaimers:** Canon characters not mine, don't get paid.

Thanks to my betas Ari and Zoe. You're the best! Thank you wolfpup for the great home!

 **Spoilers:** TSbyBS, Sentinel Too, Murder 101

 **Warnings:** lots and lots and lots of Blair angst, Blair's POV

 **Author's Notes:** I knew someone would inevitably ask what he wrote in each of his letters. I know I would want to know. All the letters from Blair to the Gang are contained in "Last Letters". Peruse to your heart's delight, but there is definitely a hanky warning.

Read these stories in the following order. 1: "The End of A Guide" 2: "Last Letters" 3: "Fight for Control". 4: "Another Life"

* * *

THE END OF A GUIDE

Sam Mallory 

* * *

I quit today. I wish I could wrap my mind around how things could get so far out of control. I was on my way to class and I knew I couldn't make it another day.

I can't stand the cold. I've never liked the cold, but no matter how many layers of warmth I add, I can't seem to warm my heart. It's broken, you know. My heart... my soul. I can't seem to fix them. I want to, but nothing I try seems to get the job done.

Jim has been so distant and cold. I've been living a lie. I know that now. I wish that it wasn't true, but I know it is and I can't go on fooling myself, being blind to the fact that I no longer have a life that belongs to me.

Being Jim's Guide has been the most important thing in my life for nearly four years. I have given up so much of myself that it doesn't seem to matter any more. I finally realize just how bad it is. You see, there's nothing left of me anymore. I could get hit by a bus today and it wouldn't matter. There's no me to be mourned for.

I've become the shadow of a man who spends every waking moment pushing me away and generally making me feel like shit. I can't take it anymore! I won't! It's taken me awhile to realize it, but I'm worth more than that. I just have to make myself remember that. I just have to get myself to see it again. My worth.

I've thought in terms of Jim so long, that today, I realized, that I no longer matter. I can't believe that. I've been in this place before and it's very, very dangerous.

You see, right after the dissertation fiasco, I got depressed. Actually, to be entirely accurate, I was barely living any day of my life outside the sucking void that was like burning in the eternal fires of my own personal hell.

I packed my office on a Friday. Isn't it funny the things you remember? Sorry, anyway, after that I went to the waterfront and just sat in my loaded car for hours and hours and hours. Well you get the picture. I finally dragged myself home, after midnight and Jim didn't say a word.

That should have been my first clue.

But, sometimes, you get so close to something that even though it's right there under your nose, you just don't see it until it's too late.

See, I know right now that I have to start over. I can't be a cop. I can't work with Jim and I most definitely can no longer live with Jim. Last night was the clincher. Last night was the absolute deciding factor that I could no longer go on.

Like I said, I've been depressed. A doctor at the University kindly wrote me a prescription for anti-depressants (with several refills) before my insurance ran out. That's the great thing about the clinic. They don't care that you're a self proclaimed fraud and a liar. They only care that you have money or insurance. Thus, I got the pills along with a nice prescription for sleeping pills about a week after the fiasco.

I look at that bottle every single night. I know how pathetic that sounds. Believe me, I know! But then you aren't living the shit-hole void of an existence that I've been trapped in for months now, are you?

Anyway, I looked at the bottle last night and couldn't take anymore. Do you know how easy it would be for me to just swallow them all? The simple act of swallowing could take me to a place of eternal peace in slumber. No more dirty looks at the grocery store that I've gone to for four years, no more waiting at restaurants for hours to be seated because you are patient zero.

Do you know what patient zero is? It's like Typhoid Mary. It's the person who is singled out as being the only force for the causation of a disease. That's how I feel. I can't even go down to the station anymore. I can barely get past the door without ending up in the bathroom on my knees puking so hard that I almost pass out. I can't do that anymore. To be honest, aside from classes at the Academy, I never even leave the house. I barely leave my room. I can't stand the temperature in the loft when Jim is home and I can't stand the thought of being alone with my brutal thoughts when he isn't.

I no longer have respect. Sorry, I digress. Last night, I get home and Jim is as cold as ever. No 'how was your day?' not that I expected that. Do you understand what it's like to give up everything in your life, I mean every single thing, and to have that person treat you like you're less than nothing? I couldn't take it anymore. Jim went out. I went to my room.

The pills were there. They looked so beautiful, so bright, like coming home in the freezing cold, when the fireplace is brimming with warmth and you have a cup of warm buttered rum. I shook them all out of the bottle and looked at them pathetically with tears rolling down my face. You see, you don't know how badly that I wanted them. I would gladly take them. I would be at peace. I could finally sleep. I would never again have to see the look in Jim's eyes of disappointment and disgrace, but I couldn't do it.

I wondered afterwards whether I was just a masochist who had deemed this my punishment for letting things get so out of control. I hurled the pills across the room without even taking the two pills that would allow me to sleep tonight.

You have no idea how much a person can hate themselves. I mean really hate themselves all the way down to their bones. You see, I deny myself the pills on a regular basis to punish myself. I don't eat, I don't sleep, I look like shit. I haven't been a person for a very long time, but that now has to end.

I quit today. I am no longer a Cadet studying to be a police officer. I have a lot to do today. You see, those little beautiful pills made me realize that I can't go on like this and I can't take my own life so it's time to say goodbye.

I've written letters to Jim and the entire gang of Major Crimes letting them know that I love them and that I just can't do this anymore. Jim's letter was one of the hardest letters I've ever had to write. The others hurt to write too, but I couldn't just leave without saying goodbye, especially to Daryl. He's a fine young man, who will someday become a strong and brilliant young man. He has so much spark. I used to have that, when I was first at Rainier. Even my first couple years at the bullpen I felt alive, but not anymore. I know I've said it, but I really do believe that I died at that fountain and just can't seem to come back. I have to come back.

The letters went out in the mail this morning, except for Jim's. It's here in my hand. I just have to set it on the table. I stood there forever, my eyes transfixed on Jim's name emblazoned on the envelope. I know it's the coward's way out, but I also knew that if I saw Jim's face, his steel blue cold eyes, that something would make me want to stay and I just can't do it. If I stayed, I wouldn't be able to put the pills down next time and I can't live knowing that.

Just set the damn letter down, Blair.

I laid the letter on the table propped up against a stack of clean red-sealed Tupperware. There you go. I'd done it! Now, I just had to walk away.

I slung my backpack over my shoulder and took my leave, dropping my keys in the basket as I went.

I know it sounds crazy, but hey it's me. I kept copies of the letters that I sent to my friends and to Eli. It is my last piece of them that I can't seem to let go of.

I made a duplicate of the picture of Jim and me fishing as well. I know I'm only torturing myself, but I couldn't leave without something to remember him by.

My heart is breaking.

* * *

It's been a couple weeks since I left the loft. At least I know my friends are safe. I've been looking for a job, but let's face it. Even McDonald's doesn't want to hire someone who's a self-professed fraud and liar. I can't really blame them. I made my own bed, now I have to lay in it.

I called Naomi and told her I left, but wouldn't tell her where. She begged me to come and stay with her, but I just can't. There's so much anger there. I mean, she's my mom and I love her, but when I think about the fact that a few months ago, I had a life, I just can't be with her now. Too much negative energy there and I have enough of that to make rounds of the city a few times.

I've applied for about 40 jobs in the past two weeks. I couldn't even get hired at the docks. How bad is that? I have about $2500 left and if I'm very careful, I can hopefully stretch it out. I sold the Volvo the day I left and pulled all my money from the bank, closing the account. I don't want to be traced.

There's something to be said for working with Major Crime for almost four years and all the classes at the Academy. Between the two, I've learned to effectively disappear. No paper trail.

I just wish I had a job. You have no idea how intrinsic a job is to your self worth.

* * *

It's been six months and the money's nearly gone. I still haven't found anything. I bumped into Eli Stoddard today at a rare bookstore in Chinatown. He wants me to finish the diss under an assumed name. He says that I've got the credentials and he backed Chancellor Edwards figuratively and legally up against a wall. I really, really want this so bad. I worked over half of my life for it and to be honest I deserve it.

That's the first time in a long time that I have felt like I deserve to do something for myself. It feels kinda good. Maybe... I'll try to do it more often.

I defended my dissertation in a closed session today. It took nearly four months to set everything up and I had to finish the paper. Eli thought of everything: a closed session with a committee made up of colleagues who'd been retired for years. Men and women that had never met Blair Sandburg. Chancellor Edwards balked at this, but Eli wanted to be sure that I got every chance to make a new life for myself. He even managed to get my student loans taken care of by the University by reminding the Chancellor how much I could get if I filed a lawsuit for wrongful termination and dissemination of my thesis without express permission. Needless to say she thought this was a small price to pay to never see me again. The diss on closed societies was accepted and Liam Jacobs has a PhD in Anthropology. Eli worked so hard for me and I feel that I owe him so much.

By the way, Liam Jacobs is my new name. Ta Duh. I went to a computer hacker friend of mine who had a friend that knew of a guy... you get the idea. I wanted the paper trail to be non-existent. Liam Jacobs has a full background, thanks to my hacker friend, who will remain nameless. Thus, Liam Jacobs was born and Blair Sandburg died. On the day of my death and consequent rebirth, I cut off all of my hair and went with a very GQ short style that I admit looks pretty good if way different.

Liam means 'unwavering protector' and although I'm sure many would think me arrogant, I gave up everything in my life to protect my Sentinel so I felt the name was perfect. I had earned it!

* * *

I moved to Seattle three months ago. I've been working as an antiquities appraiser for Peruvian Antiquities. Tell me that isn't some kind of sign.

I worked at the shelter today and met an Angel. Her name is Suzanne. I've never seen a more beautiful woman in my life. She radiates gentle light, literally. I can't believe I actually managed to ask her out. I stammered through the whole damn thing, but I managed it. Thank God!

I know what you're thinking. This is Blair Sandburg, AKA Romeo. Well you have to remember Blair Sandburg doesn't exist anymore in any way. I haven't been on a date since a few months before the dissertation fiasco. Liam Jacobs has never been on a date. That's kinda scary when you think about it, so I try not to. Oh well. We're going out tomorrow night and I can't wait. She's so amazing.

* * *

Suzanne and I got married a week ago in Aruba. It was awesome. It was just the two of us, the holy man that married us and the witnesses he provided. I can't believe she said yes, even now when I know she's my wife.

I couldn't let her marry me without knowing the truth. When we started to get serious, which was only a few months into the courtship, I knew I had to tell her. I couldn't just let her marry a man who for all intents and purposes before six months ago didn't exist.

I made her dinner at my place and we talked all night. She smiled, knowing and sadly, placed her hands along each side of my face and kissed me gently. She said that it didn't matter. She loved me and knew that I had a pure heart and soul. I have to admit that her devotion to me was not only surprising, but actually led to me crying in her arms most of the night.

Now, she is my wife. The only person in the entire universe who knows the truth about Liam Jacobs, a truth that she has vowed to take to her grave. If word that I was Blair Sandburg got out, Liam's life would be ruined. She promised me that Blair Sandburg would stay dead and that Liam Jacobs would have the most wonderful life. A life that he deserved more than any other man in the world. She says things like that all the time. God, I love that woman and what she does to me just with her smile! She can still turn my knees to jelly with that smile.

* * *

We adopted two children today. They are beautiful. Danica is 9 and Aaron is 6. We had to take them both and we love them more than we ever thought possible. You see, Danica is a Sentinel and Aaron is her Guide. Suzanne knows all about my former work with Jim. She's actually a little pissed that he could treat me so indifferently after all that we had been through. I can't help myself. I still do some Sentinel research on the side. I'm careful not to check anything out for fear I'll be found. I know it sounds stupid, but I'm still not ready to see my Sentinel, even after nearly three years.

I still think about Jim. How could I not after all that we had meant to each other? We were partners, friends, brothers. We were together almost all the time.

Often times, I sit in my office and pull the picture of Jim and me out of the safe and just look at it. Michael knows to hold my calls during this time and gives me a wide berth so I don't bite his head off. Unfortunately, he learned this the hard way.

Michael is my executive assistant. When we found out that we would be adopting the kids. I started my own company. It may not have seemed like the best time, but it took awhile for the adoption to go through and we had plenty of money saved from my work with Peruvian Antiquities and Suzanne's social work. Suzanne owned a condo so we were able to save up almost everything we made minus utilities.

I can't tell you how cool it is to own your own company. Yeah, there's a lot of work that goes into it, but there's no Chancellor Edwards bossing you around every second and you don't have to worry about being fired because you caught a student cheating and his parents had money so they fired you instead. It is way cool!

* * *

I have to go to Cairo tomorrow. I'm doing some appraising on a dig and they need me there in the next two days to cinch the deal. I love the travel. I miss Suzanne and the kids, but I _love_ the feeling you get when you board a plane and head off to parts unknown.

The trip has been very tiring and I've barely had a moment's peace, but it's a good tired. The kind of tired you get when you've accomplished more than you ever thought possible and your pride in yourself is almost overflowing.

I was looking forward to returning home tomorrow, but they need me to fly out to Japan and authenticate the materials that have already been sent from the dig site to Tokyo. They are supposed to be in customs and will be released upon my arrival. Then, I will be able to fly home to my family.

I haven't seen them all week and I can't wait. Suzanne says she's got some cool news, but wants to wait until I get home. I bet she got that promotion she was up for. I can't wait to put my arms around her and celebrate.

* * *

Whoa! Suzanne is pregnant! Wow, I can't believe it! She just told me and I'm still reeling from the shock of it all. The baby is due in October and she's never been happier. To tell you the truth neither have I.

A baby.

My baby.

Oh my God!

* * *

My son was born today. Suzanne gave birth to my beautiful son after 14 hours of labor and almost an hour of pushing. Mother and baby are doing great.

I admit I was holding my breath for part of it and I'll probably never write again. I forgot and gave her my 'good' hand. I jokingly asked the doctor if I needed a cast and Suzanne damn near threw me out of the room. It occurs to me now that joking about your own discomfort when your wife is in incredible pain is not a smart thing to do. Even the nurses' looks were enough to stop me in my tracks.

Suzanne asked me what name I would like to give to my son. We tried to come up with names before hand, but I wanted to meet him before I saddled him with a name. The thing is, I know what I want to name him, but Suz will probably take my head off.

She finally pulled the name out of my very closed mouth. I want to name him Simon James. My son deserves to have a strong name and while I still have a tremendous amount of anger toward both Jim and Simon, I can't think of a better name to give to my perfect boy.

It is my hope that Simon James will help his father let go of the anger and grief he has carried for so long.

Looking down into his perfect face, I know I've picked the right 'man' for the job.

* * *

Suzanne dropped another bombshell on me. She's pregnant again. Simon isn't even one yet. She told me this morning that if I'm really lucky, she'll let me touch her again. God, I hope my luck holds out because I can't imagine a day without touching that magnificent woman who had given me so much.

She did let me touch her. But let me tell you, it took some pretty fancy tap dancing on my part. It's a good thing I've got the talent for talking, huh?

* * *

It's a girl!

Anya Elizabeth was born about 30 minutes ago. She's as perfect as I knew she would be. One look in her blue eyes and I was lost forever.

Suzanne says I'm hopeless. What can I say? I really love my kids.

* * *

Every day seems to get better and better. I just don't understand how seven years ago, I could be drowning (horrible pun intended) and now I have been saved.

I have a fantastic life. A job I love. A beautiful wife that I love. Four incredible kids that I love and I can't imagine being anywhere else in my life.

I still think about Jim with fond sadness. After all, I was his Guide and I was damn good at it! But that was a long time ago. It takes a lot to bring about the end of a Guide, but sometimes through all the tragedy, a glimmer of hope survives and you get a chance at a new life.

In the end, that one chance is all you need to make your life into what it should have been all along. It wasn't easy, but oh my God, it was definitely worth it!

 ** _The End_**


End file.
